Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the accounting department seemed to hum a mocking tune. Maya’s hands were clammy, the paper in her hands almost slick. She couldn't believe this was happening. This new role, in marketing, was supposed to be a promotion. But the thought of spreadsheets morphing into social media campaigns sent a knot tightening in her stomach.

She fidgeted with the pen, clicking it repeatedly, a staccato rhythm against the silence. Her eyes darted around the cubicle, taking in the organized chaos, the color-coded files, the neat stacks of paper, everything she understood and knew. All of this was about to change.

"Alright, Maya?" Her manager, Mr. Henderson, clapped her on the shoulder. His booming voice felt loud and invasive. "Ready to rock the creative world?" She managed a weak smile, her throat suddenly dry.

The prospect of dealing with a whole new cast of people, with their own workflows and expectations, felt overwhelming. She just wanted to go back to her safe little corner, her numbers, her routines.